


glad i didn't die before i met you

by deerie



Series: Melissa and Derek are Bros [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Families of Choice, First Kiss, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:20:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerie/pseuds/deerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, and two weeks into whatever it is they’re doing, Melissa McCall says, “I know that look in your eye, Derek.”</p><p>Startled, Derek looks up from the muffin on his plate. The blueberry muffin is a trap. Melissa only gave it to him because she wants to talk about uncomfortable things. He really needs to stop accepting food from her. He looks down at the muffin, betrayed, and thinks, <i>How could you do this to me?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	glad i didn't die before i met you

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled, "Melissa and Derek are bros and no one can convince me otherwise, or: The Ballad of Derek Hale, a real person who does actual person things."
> 
> Also, it's not explicitly stated anywhere in the story but I imagined Melissa to be about thirty-five in this fic. It doesn't have a huge bearing on the way the fic reads, but it does play into some scenes that weren't actually included in this story or haven't been written yet. Who knows, I might make a sequel. This is set in some undetermined time in the future - I'm not really sure where, but let's say they're out of high school but not quite in college yet.
> 
> The title comes from the Bright Eyes song, "First Day of My Life."

The whole thing starts because - well, no, actually, Derek has no idea how it starts. It’s been a month of whatever _this_ is and he’s still not completely sure what it is or how it started.

What Derek does know is that he’s enjoying himself. There hasn’t been any supernatural trouble in weeks and the pack is mostly settled and he thinks he can let himself have this.

Well, and two weeks into whatever it is they’re doing, Melissa McCall says, “I know that look in your eye, Derek.”

Startled, Derek looks up from the muffin on his plate. The blueberry muffin is a trap. Melissa only gave it to him because she wants to talk about uncomfortable things. He really needs to stop accepting food from her. He looks down at the muffin, betrayed, and thinks, _How could you do this to me?_

The muffin, unsurprisingly, says nothing to defend itself.

Melissa, however, says, “I know you want to run, but what we have is a good thing. This is serious.”

Derek doesn’t know what to say.

Melissa speaks for him, anyway. “We’re bros now, Derek Hale. You better just get used to it.”

Derek just tears his muffin in half - it’s what it deserves - and hands part of it to Melissa. She thanks him with a smile.

Then Melissa breaks the mood by saying, “Don’t forget, we’re doing trivia night at the bar.”

Derek does not whimper. He _doesn’t_.

 

*

Derek sits in Melissa’s kitchen, letting her voice wash over him as she hurries around. It’s her day off and it’s just gone three-thirty.

He watches her glance at the clock. She stops mid-word to mutter venomously, “Oh, I am going to kill Scott."

Derek perks up, interested to hear where she’s going with this.

“He was supposed to come home right after his shift! I told him this morning. Of course he wasn’t listening. I need him to clean out the gutters - oh, he’s probably with Allison, I’m going to skin him.”

She stops scrubbing at a stain that isn’t on the counter anymore, washed away during her rant, and throws the dish rag down on the counter. “I swear, everything I say goes in one ear and out the other with him.”

Derek says, “I think that’s just pretty par for the course at this point,” and it startles a laugh out of Melissa.

“I guess you’re right, huh. Too bad Stiles wasn’t here this morning,” she peers out of the window above the kitchen sink. When she turns around and sees the confused look on Derek’s face, she clarifies, “He’s always been really good with keeping Scott on track when it comes to me. I know that sounds odd, given he’s _Stiles_ , but when you think about it, it’s really not that surprising.”

Derek always feels out of sorts when he’s offered information about the people around him freely like this. So he offers back the only thing he has at this point. “I can clean the gutters for you, if you want.”

“Oh, no, Derek, you don’t have to do it,” Melissa protests. “It’s Scott’s chore.”

“Really,” Derek says, and it feels like something missing slots into place. “I don’t mind.”

 

 

Scott finally rolls up to the house on his bike an hour later when Derek is just beginning to scrape the muck out of the gutters on the front of the house. He perches precariously on a ladder that Melissa had him unearth from the garage - pretty much unused if the cobwebs on it are any indication - and Melissa peers up it from her place at the bottom.

She claims she's spotting him, even though she already knows about werewolf healing powers. Mostly she's sassing him and critiquing his gutter-cleaning technique.

“I do, in fact, know how to clean the gutters,” Derek shouts down at her.

“Jeez,” she says, putting her hands up, “I was just trying to help.”

She’s laughing, though, so he knows she’s not too offended.

“Mom!” Scott groans, “What is Derek doing? Why is he cleaning the gutters?”

Melissa turns around and Derek is glad he’s not on the receiving end of that glare. Wow, that’s intense. “Well, Scott, Derek actually helps me out, even though he doesn’t have to. You know that this is your chore, Scott! I don’t ask that much of you and you live here practically rent-free! The least you can do is show up and clean the gutters when I ask you to!”

“What?” Scott seems confused as to why he’s on his mom’s dirt list. Derek stifles a laugh and keeps cleaning. “When did you ask me?”

“This morning, Scott! I knew you weren’t listening to me! What were you even doing?”

Scott winces. “I was with Allison.”

“I knew it! Derek, you owe me ten bucks.”

“I distinctly remember saying, ‘No, I’m not going to make a bet with you because of course he’s with Allison’.”

“I had to try,” Melissa laughs before rounding back to her son when he unsuccessfully tries to sneak away. “You! Stop where you are. I’m not done talking.”

Scott shoots her a guilty look. “Sorry.”

“Not nearly enough, I think,” Melissa says, crossing her arms. “You get up there and finish what Derek started and when you’re done, we can discuss a punishment.”

“ _Mom_ ,” Scott whines.

Derek climbs down the ladder and shoves the gloves, trowel, and garbage bags into Scott’s hands. “Have fun,” he rumbles.

Scott sends him a dirty look.

Melissa high-fives Derek on their way back inside. As they cross the threshold, she asks, “You thirsty? I sure am, all that hard work -”

Derek huffs at her. “Oh yeah, all that _hard work_ you did standing at the bottom of the ladder.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

 

*

Derek's exercise routine comes to an end with one last pull-up. He collapses onto the couch, a thin sheen of sweat on his chest, and takes a deep breath. He absolutely does not startle when Isaac pops out of the kitchen area. How does he even manage to _do_ that? It isn’t like there are any walls in the loft.

Sometimes Derek regrets giving them all keys.

Isaac comes around into the living room of the loft and stands above Derek, eyeing him suspiciously, before he says, "You've been spending a lot of time with Ms. McCall, haven't you."

Derek opens his mouth to speak but Isaac holds up a hand and says, "That's not a question. Don't answer that."

Isaac paces in front of the couch, every so often shooting a look at Derek.

Finally, Isaac asks, dubiously, "You're not trying to mack on Scott's mom, are you? Because I've been told to remind you that's seriously uncool."

"What?" Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "No."

He rolls over on the couch and tries not to suffocate himself in the cushions, but even he can admit he's not trying very hard.

Isaac narrows his eyes like he doesn't even believe Derek. "I mean, what would Stiles say?"

"I don’t know – wait, _what_? What does Stiles have to do anything?"

Isaac sighs like Derek's the one being difficult - which, no, he's not - and crosses his arms. Derek half-expects him to start tapping his foot. This is weird. There is nothing normal about this situation.

Derek can't even begin to try to explain how lost he is. Isaac looks done with the whole situation. "If I have to listen to Scott and Stiles bitch one more time about how you're trying to date Ms. McCall, I will personally hold you responsible."

Derek nods helplessly as Isaac points a finger at him, leans forward, and scrunches his mouth up before stomping out of the room and presumably out of the loft, if the slamming of the sliding door is any indication.

This is so far outside the realm of anything that Derek is equipped to deal with that Derek doesn't even know who he should talk to about this. His pack has collectively lost their damn minds, but it's still a better situation than last month with the goblins. He shudders. Anything is better than the goblins.

 

 

Melissa laughs at him when he explains what happened.

Derek stares at her balefully across the table at the diner. He opens his mouth to tell her to quit, but she points a finger up - the universal sign for _wait a minute_ \- and actually leans out of the booth and into the aisle so she can finish the great big bout of laughter.

She is the actual worst, Derek thinks.

The waitress glances between the pair, bemused, when she sets their food down on the table and disappears quickly after they say they don’t need anything else.

Melissa is still choking back giggles. Derek holds his fork perpendicular to the table and just continues to stare at her.

“It’s pretty funny, you have to admit,” she finally says. “I’m a catch.”

“You don’t have a dick,” Derek says, sullenly. He spears a piece of chicken on his fork and eats it. The chicken’s a little dry, but that’s why he has ranch dressing. He’s not picky, despite whatever Stiles says.

“Oh, honey,” Melissa sighs. She reminds him so much of his mother in that moment that it aches a little bit. She sips from her iced tea and just looks at him for a moment. Her eyes go sharp and she gets a wicked gleam in her eye before she says, “You know what would really freak Scott out?”

A small smile curves its way across Derek’s face but he tries to hide it behind a chicken tender. “No,” he says.

Melissa catches the smile anyway. She’s pretty sharp, Derek thinks, and though he knows he’s being spiteful, he has no idea how Scott missed out on that in the gene pool.

 

*

Because Melissa is devious, she drags Derek in on her plans even when he doesn’t want to be involved – she reminds him a lot of Stiles right now, and wow, that’s not a comparison he _ever_ wanted to make.

She enacts the ultimate showdown at a pack barbecue.

Everyone is there - all the werewolves, all the humans including the Sheriff. Derek is actually kind of surprised that they’ve gotten to a point where everybody can be in the same vicinity without disaster striking. It’s nice. It kind of makes his skin itch, though.

Of course, he has no way of stopping the disaster that is Melissa McCall when she says she has an announcement for everyone, “Gather around - _yes_ , even you, Scott. Especially you, this is important.”

Derek skulks around the outskirts of the group until Melissa grabs him by the arm and pulls him up to stand next to her. He avoids everyone’s curious stares, choosing instead to focus somewhere over their heads as he tries not to turn red. Melissa is a _menace_.

Scott is looking at his mom, suspiciously eyeing the way she’s looped her arm with Derek’s and Derek isn’t actually looking but he thinks he can feel both pairs of Stilinski eyes boring their way into the side of his head. It’s really disconcerting. Derek has a really bad feeling about this. He should have tried harder to shut whatever is going on down, because this is going to turn out good for no one.

Melissa takes a second to look around at the group and smile. She heaves a big sigh and then says, excitedly, “We’re engaged!”

The backyard is deadly quiet for a moment and then Melissa whips her left hand out and on it is a fat diamond. Derek feels a little light headed. Where did she even get that?

The quiet passes abruptly when Scott howls, “No, Mom, _why_!”

It’s not even a question, huh. Derek can see why Stiles gets a little annoyed when he does it.

Derek thinks he can see the Sheriff reach for his hip - for his gun, Derek supposes, which thankfully is not there, because no matter how hilarious Scott’s wailing is, it’s not worth getting shot over.

Derek keeps his face bland and Melissa keeps grinning as Scott says, “Why did it have to be him!”

Stiles narrows his eyes and keeps glancing back and forth between Derek and Melissa.

Melissa, of course, is the first one to crack. Much like she did at the diner with Derek earlier in the week, she dissolves into furious laughter, except this time at her son’s expense.

Melissa says, a few minutes later when she calms down and stops laughing at him and is now in the mood to scold, “I’m just messing with you, Scott. We’re not getting married.”

Scott looks at her with these big puppy dog eyes and says, “Why would you do that to me?”

Melissa just shakes her head and says, “You need to stop giving Derek a hard time for spending time with me. We’re just friends. You and your cronies -” she pauses to give both Stiles and Isaac the evil eye - “need to cut it out.”

Melissa gives each of them the disappointed mom look shortly after and each boy looks suitably chastised.

“Where did you even get that ring?” Derek finally asks because his curiosity is killing him.

“Oh, do you like it?” Melissa asks. She holds it up in the light, twisting her hand gently back and forth, and brightly smiles. “They pulled it out of some girl’s stomach last week.”

Derek regrets asking. Derek almost regrets agreeing to be friends with Melissa, but even he knows that’s a big fat lie.

 

*

Derek isn’t even surprised that Stiles let himself into the loft the next morning. If anything, he’s already resigned himself to the fact that Stiles is going to be there whether Derek wants him there or not.

“So you and Ms. McCall,” Stiles says after settling himself at the kitchen table.

“We’re just friends,” Derek says as he stares into his bowl of cereal. It’s quickly getting soggy. Derek wonders if that’s a precursor to how the rest of his day is going to go. Stiles stares at him, eyes unblinking and it’s honestly starting to freak Derek out a little bit. Derek offers, “I vet her dates sometimes.”

Stiles doesn’t say anything. Actually, that might be what’s freaking Derek out the most. Stiles stares at him and doesn’t say anything and he sits really still and Derek doesn’t think he’s seen Stiles at this level of inactivity at any point in their years of knowing each other. Derek has seen Stiles move more after a stray arrow wound, because Stiles is stubborn and never lets on how much pain he's in and he's sarcastic and Derek loves him for it, he really does, but - Oh. Oh, _shit_.

He lets his spoon clatter to the table with this new revelation but forces himself to focus on why Stiles is here. "Melissa reminds me," Derek starts, searching for the right words to fit what he's feeling - "She reminds me of my mom."

Wow, that _hurts_ to admit. He can feel his eyes well without his permission. He glances up and feels relief when Stiles stops glaring, his gaze now softer, rawer.

“Yeah,” he says, “she reminds me of my mom too.”

They’re both quiet for a long moment, but the room isn’t tense like it was before. Derek picks up his spoon and is about to tuck into his soggy cereal when Stiles asks, “You really vet her dates for her?”

Derek stares wide eyed at the table and scrunches his mouth a little before he sighs and leans closer to quietly say, “She has _terrible_ taste in men.”

Stiles tries not to grin, Derek can tell, but he doesn’t quite succeed because the corners of his mouth twitch up uncontrollably. “That’s the understatement of the century, dude, she went on a date with your uncle.”

Derek just looks mortified. “I _know_.”

“What’s the worst date she’s ever tried to go on?”

Derek slides his gaze to the side, like he isn’t sure if he should betray Melissa like this by gossiping about her with Stiles.

“C’mon, Derek, because whoever you say, I can beat because my dad went on the worst date ever last month.”

Derek does have a burgeoning interest in gossip. It’s one of the big selling points with Melissa, because she is a gossip _connoisseur_. Derek wonders if it’s a side effect of her working in the hospital sometimes, because he can’t ever remember being this into gossip before he started being friends with Melissa.

He waffles for a minute before he ultimately gives in and says, “Larry, from the hardware store.”

It takes Stiles a minute to place why that name sounds so familiar, but then it all clicks for him and Derek can tell the exact moment Stiles realizes who he’s talking about. “When you say _Larry_ , do you mean the Larry who asks you what you're looking for and then takes you to the other side of the store and traps you in creepy conversations? Because dude, no."

Derek nods and then says, “He knocked on the door and then I scared him away. He smells like motor oil and cheese dust.”

Stiles shudders but says, “My story beats that one.”

Derek can only stare. Stiles takes that as his cue to start. “Ms. McCall works with this nurse named Cheryl, right?”

Derek nods because her name has popped up once or twice or way too many times in Melissa’s work rants.

“Okay, so Cheryl kind of strong armed my dad into a date and he went along with it because he didn’t want to be rude, which was dumb because it turns out he totally should’ve nipped this one in the bud. It was that Saturday, um, after the goblins, so I was pretty rough looking when I got home and I didn’t realize my dad and Cheryl were in the house until I, y’know, got in the kitchen and there they were.”

Derek waits for Stiles to take a deep breath before he continues, but Derek doesn’t see where this is going. Unless Stiles walked in on his dad and Cheryl necking, Derek isn’t sure how this story could get worse.

Stiles appears to steel himself before he bursts out all at once with, “Long story short, she sat me down, told me I needed to keep better care of myself or I was going to worry my dad into an early grave, gave me a piece of pie which she apparently had been keeping in her car or something, and told me to call her mom.”

The spoonful that had been headed for Derek’s mouth clatters on the table and he stares at Stiles with his mouth hanging open unattractively. Derek pushes his chair back in one long scrape and stands up, awkwardly, and pulls Stiles up too, sort of patting over him with the palms of his hands like he’s checking for injuries or reassuring himself that Stiles is still there - kind of like he does after fights sometimes - up his arms and over his shoulders. Derek palms the back of Stiles’ neck and just barely refrains from saying, “You poor thing,” which is clearly a sign that he needs to stop hanging around the old biddies at the Episcopalian church after Sunday services.

Instead, Derek says, “You win,” and herds Stiles onto the couch in the next room. He tells himself he’s comforting a distressed pack mate, which is what a good alpha should do but he can’t really convince himself.

Stiles doesn’t seem to mind or notice, though, if the way he curls up against Derek’s side and under his arm is any indication. Sometimes Derek wonders how he ended up with the most touch-starved pack on the West Coast (and probably the East Coast, too, if he’s being honest with himself) but then he thinks, _teenagers, right_ , and that puts an end to that train of thought.

Stiles mutters, “I don’t want to win, I just want my dad to be happy.”

That’s the moment an idea forms in Derek’s mind and he wonders why he never thought of it before. It’s _perfect_.

 

*

“This is all very Parent Trappy,” Stiles whispers from his spot behind a fake tree. Derek is really surprised they haven’t been caught yet. Stiles has no subtlety whatsoever.

Derek reels him back in with a hand in his hood and says, “Thank God it’s not, I couldn’t handle another one of you.”

“I ate my twin in utero,” Stiles says, deadpan, and it takes Derek an honest-to-God minute to realize Stiles is joking. He stops staring at Stiles incredulously and risks a look over the low wall they’re sitting behind.

“Have you ever even seen _The Parent Trap_?” Derek asks.

Stiles shakes his head no. “I was, like, _maybe_ two years old when that movie came out, dude.”

Derek rolls his eyes heavenward and focuses in on listening to the conversation between the Sheriff and Melissa.

They’ve moved past the initial surprise of finding out that they’re each other’s blind date and are exchanging small talk. Good, this is very good. At the very least, one of Derek’s plans is coming to fruition. Maybe he should look into matchmaking, he clearly has a talent.

He turns to tell Stiles that it’s going well, when he distinctly hears Melissa say, “Now only if your son and Derek would stop hiding and go out on a date that doesn’t involve _spying_ , everything would be great.”

Derek stands and drags Stiles up with him.

“Wait, wait, what happened?” Stiles yelps. “What did she say?”

“We’ve been compromised,” he says, and the Sheriff’s laughter follows Stiles’ flailing out the door.

 

*

Melissa calls them ‘family dinners’ and instructs Derek, “Bring those wayward teenagers with you. Wow, you really made a boo-boo when you basically bit everyone under eighteen in this town.”

“Hey,” Derek protests, “I did not bite everyone. Do not blame me for Scott.”

“Speaking of Peter, you better invite him to dinner before he invites himself.”

“Do you not remember what happened at the last barbecue he came to?”

Melissa and Derek both take a moment to mourn the loss of possibly the greatest grill fork ever to exist. The fork met its end when Lydia shoved it into Peter’s forearm after he said something particularly detestable to her. Peter, regrettably, healed after a few moments, but the fork had to be relegated to the trash can.

“It’s better to be prepared for him, though. And this won’t be a barbecue, so we shouldn't actually lose a kitchen utensil this time.”

“Don’t speak too soon,” Derek mutters.

Since everyone’s schedules are so different, she tries to have two family dinners a month. Melissa always reels someone in to help her cook for everyone - she calls it ‘putting good vibes back into the universe’ and Derek calls it ‘indentured servitude’, but even he can see that there’s a method to her madness.

She calls herself a hit-or-miss cook - “Do or do not cook. There is no try,” she says to Derek as they’re hip to hip at the sink, washing vegetables, and she’s just talking to fill the empty space.

“I really wish I’d gone with stainless steel in the kitchen. This white shows everything. I wish I hadn't let Scott’s dad bully me into it,” she huffs, dropping a zucchini into the colander.

Once again, Derek doesn’t know what to say, so he says, “Hey, how did your date with the Sheriff go?”

Melissa shoots him a look that says she knows exactly what he’s doing. “What, you mean you and Stiles didn’t stick around to spy some more?”

“Don’t sass me,” Derek says, without any real bite behind it. He drops the potato he peeled into the colander.

“ _Please_ ,” she drawls. “Seriously, though, it went really well. I didn’t even think - well, we’re going out next week, so we’ll see.”

“Is he coming to dinner?”

“Yes, if he isn’t too busy at the station.”

Derek bumps her elbow with his and doesn’t say anything when she nudges him back. “You don’t have to be so smug, Derek.”

“He’s a good guy,” Derek says, and that’s exactly when Stiles comes stumbling into the kitchen.

“Who’s a good guy?” is the first thing out of his mouth.

“Your father,” Melissa says.

Stiles smiles brightly and nods. “What can I do to help?”

Melissa puts him to work on the roast, listing off the seasonings he needs to put on it and Stiles starts on the roast quietly - the kind of quiet that curls happily and settles deep in the room.

 

 

Dinner is not a disaster - quite the opposite, actually. Like the barbecue, everyone shows up and this time they all squeeze into the dining room. Beacon Hills has been pretty quiet lately so even the Sheriff gets to shows up.

Peter strolls in at the last minute with the smarmiest look on his face. Luckily, everyone is already seated, so he has to sit between the Sheriff and Derek. Lydia is on the other end of the table, ensconced between Allison and Boyd, who sits on the end.

The roast falls apart when Derek touches it with his fork and he gently kicks Stiles under the table. When Stiles looks up from his plate, Derek shoots him a small grin. The returning grin Stiles sends him brightens up their side of the table.

Peter even manages to behave for the entirety of the dinner and the conversation is lively. Isaac jokes with the Sheriff and Derek is really proud that Isaac’s come so far. Melissa and Allison tease Scott, while Scott tries to get Stiles to stick up for him. Lydia and Boyd are murmuring something about chemistry at the end of the table.

Dinner is good.

What follows dinner is the disaster.

Peter, who has been mostly quiet throughout, wipes his mouth on his napkin and says, “Well, this has been fun. ‘Family dinner,’ did you say, Melissa?”

She eyes him warily but nods.

Peter leans over to Derek and says, “Do you enjoy playing at family?”

Derek can feel his grip on his silverware tighten until his knuckles are white. Conversation around them falls silent as everyone takes in what Peter says. Stiles tries to catch Derek’s gaze, but Derek ignores him. Instead, he stares down at the table and doesn’t say anything.

“You do remember what happened to your real family, don’t you?” Peter’s voice is deadly calm. “How they burned in a house because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants? Now look at you! Playing house with this band of misfits - _family dinners_ ,” he scoffs.

The worst part - the worst part is that Derek just sits there and takes it. He knows everything Peter says is true.

“Face it, Derek, you’re a terrible alpha, you’re an awful nephew. You were a bad brother and you know it. You killed our entire family and here you are, pretending like you deserve to be happy -”

“That’s enough,” Melissa says, voice brittle.

Peter ignores her completely, “Pretending like you deserve _anything_ after what you did to my family.”

“That’s _enough_ ,” Melissa yells, hands coming down on the table. Derek finally startles and looks up at her, but she’s standing up. “Peter, shut your mouth.”

Peter tilts his head to the side as he looks up at her. “You’re probably the worst out of them all.”

“Excuse me?”

“Accepting Derek into your little group, accepting all his _mistakes_ ,” Peter waves a hand toward Isaac and Boyd. “Thinking that Derek deserves forgiveness - well, guess what? You’re not the person who gets to decide that.”

Melissa doesn’t raise her voice when she says, “And you are? I hate to break this to you, but you don’t get to hold forgiveness over his head. I don’t know what kind of person you were before the fire, but I’m sure that person would be ashamed of the person you are now. Get out of my house.”

The Sheriff jostles Peter up out of his chair and says, “It’s time for you to go.”

Peter snarls and yanks his arm out of the Sheriff’s grip.

The Sheriff just crosses his arms and levels Peter with an unimpressed look. “I think it’s time you looked for residence outside of Beacon Hills. Now, get out of here and don’t make any trouble. I have no problem shooting you. I hear werewolves can heal from that sort of thing.”

Peter growls, but runs his hands down his jacket and heads for the front of the house. He leaves, door slamming in his wake, and the room is quiet for all of two seconds.

The Sheriff comes around the table to put his arms around Melissa’s shoulders and she deflates, all of her anger leaving her all at once. Her hands shake and Derek feels bad that he put her in a situation like that.

The betas are all clamoring to get Derek’s attention but he can’t handle it right now, so he pushes back from the table in one long movement and escapes the room before anyone can stop him.

The back door is unlocked so he heads out there. He sits on the back step before he even really realizes what he’s doing and puts his head in his hands. It’s one thing to think all of those things about himself in the safety of his own head - it’s another thing entirely to have all his faults laid out there for everyone to see.

He hears the back door open and close but doesn’t make any attempt to move. It’s just Stiles anyway. Derek wonders when he started to equate Stiles with safety.

Stiles sits down on the step next to him and rests a hand on Derek’s shoulder. He’s quiet for a long moment and the only sound between the two of them is their breathing.

“You’re not a bad alpha.”

Derek scoffs. Stiles drags his hand down Derek’s back and leans into his side.

“You’re not,” Stiles repeats. “You’ve got a whole pack in there climbing over each other to try and get out here and show you that.”

Derek moves his hands to his knees and glances at Stiles from the corner of his eye.

“I’m serious,” Stiles says. “Even Scott is up in arms about it and we both know he isn’t your biggest fan. Our parents are literally the only thing between us and the betas right now.”

Derek coughs out a laugh, a broken ugly thing, but it only encourages Stiles. He smiles.

“Peter’s a dick. You shouldn’t listen to him. Ms. McCall was right. There’s no way he’s the same person he was before the fire. He doesn’t get to call you family, because he isn’t your family anymore. We’re your family, Derek. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time, because we’re here to be strong for you.”

Derek leans over and rests his head in his hands and Stiles just follows the movement. He tucks his nose against Derek’s shoulder. Derek takes a deep breath and feels Stiles move with him.

“You didn’t kill your family,” Stiles breathes against his shoulder.

Derek’s shoulders shake. Stiles wraps his free hand around Derek’s bicep. “You didn’t. You’re not a bad brother. I’m sure Laura would kick your ass for thinking that if she was here, but you’re just going to have to settle for me telling you.”

Derek thinks about all the times he told Stiles about Laura. He thinks about how much Laura would have liked Stiles. She would have thought he was annoying, but she would have liked him for moments like these. She would have liked Stiles because Derek liked Stiles.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Derek. I don’t know if anyone’s told you that, but you’re totally allowed to be happy. You have a pack that cares about you. You have a family that cares about you. And I - I care about you.”

Derek sits up at that and turns to face Stiles. Their knees bump together when Stiles turns too. Stiles looks so earnest that it hurts Derek a little bit. His eyebrows are raised just a bit and he’s biting his lip. Stiles lets one of his hands go to Derek’s shoulder and the other one clasps loosely around Derek’s wrist, squeezing gently like he’s trying to make a point.

And oh - _oh_.

“I, uh, didn’t realize,” Derek says softly. The hand that Stiles isn’t holding comes up to cup his cheek. Stiles smiles and leans into the touch. “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

Stiles shakes his head minutely and grins at Derek. “Nah, I wanted you to be ready.”

Derek dips his eyes and when he looks back up at Stiles, he’s smiling. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Stiles repeats before he leans forward.

Derek doesn’t feel sparks when they kiss, but they fit together like that’s exactly where they’re supposed to be. Stiles’ lips are soft against his and the kiss is just a dry press of lips, but Derek thinks this is what he’s been waiting for.

Stiles pulls back, just a bit, and rests his forehead on Derek’s and his eyes are sparkling. “Okay,” Stiles repeats. “Okay.”

 

*

Actually, Derek remembers exactly how this - everything _this_ has turned into - started:

 

He was standing in the frozen food aisle, trying to decide if he really needed to stock up on the Hungry Man dinners that were on sale.

He caught something out of the corner of his eye and glanced up to find a woman boxing in his cart with hers. She settled in with her hands on her hips. It took him a moment to place her as Scott's mom. They had the same eyes.

She stared at him for a long moment before she crossed her arms and asked, "You're the one who's been keeping Scott safe?" She paused to look around, and when she was sure no one was listening in, she continued. "With the - the goblins?"

Derek felt rattled. He glanced down at his hands - where had that smudge of dirt come from? - to break Ms. McCall's intense eye contact.

"As much as he lets me," he finally answered, looking back up at her.

She nodded and glanced at the crap in his cart, the frozen pizzas and packs of instant noodles. "Go put that stuff back up."

He had just stared at her, confused, before she took pity on him. "I need a partner for trivia night. Call me Melissa."

"Derek," he offered, still at a loss.

"Oh, honey," Melissa said. "I _know_."

 

 

***

(epilogue)  
 _a month later_

 

“This is weird,” Derek states, looking into his boyfriend’s bedroom.

“ _This_ is a judgment-free cuddle zone, Derek Hale.” Stiles shouts from the bed. “Haven’t you ever had cuddles with your bros before?”

Stiles and Scott sprawl across Stiles’ bed, both in their boxers, limbs tangled, and it _is_ , it’s weird. This is definitely the weirdest thing Derek has ever walked in on and he also walked in on that thing with the satyr and the chocolate sauce.

“I can feel your judgy eyebrows all the way over here, man, and it is the opposite of cool.”

Scott pipes up with words straight out of Melissa’s mouth, “Haven’t you ever just wanted to exist in the universe, Derek? That’s what we’re doing, existing in the universe.”

“No shame!” Stiles yells from where his head is pressed under Scott’s arm.

This is too easy.

“My only _bro_ in Beacon Hills is your mom, Scott,” Derek sneers.

Scott wails in horror and Stiles almost falls off the bed, he’s laughing so hard. “Wow, harsh, man!”

Derek just shakes his head and backs out of the room. It’s Sunday, he totally doesn’t have to deal with this right now.

As Derek turns to walk down the stairs, Stiles yells, “Tell Isaac to get his sweet ass in here for bro-bonding!”

No, Derek thinks, that is a thing he will absolutely not be doing. As he walks down the stairs, though, he can’t help the smile that breaks across his face.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. You would be surprised how many results pop up when you google "creepy hardware store guy." Then again, maybe not.  
> 2\. I based Scott's interaction with Melissa on my brother's interaction with my mother, so fingers crossed that it doesn't seem too out of character - I figured Scott could have that bout of attitude that comes with being newly eighteen and "independent."  
> 3\. This story would not have been possible without the following people: [erraticonstilts](http://erraticonstilts.tumblr.com), who when I said "I want a fic where Melissa and Derek are bros" said something along the lines of "write it"; [honeybearbee](http://honeybearbee.tumblr.com), who I would not have been able to write this without (seriously, she basically held my hand through the entire after dinner scene); [cieleezy](http://cieleezy.tumblr.com), who I'm pretty sure read over this a couple times even though her brain was fried from Star Trek; and [truthtruthlie](http://truthtruthlie.tumblr.com), who is slipping slowly into the Teen Wolf fandom at my insistence and who checked this over and broke it down and helped me rebuild it. Thanks bros, I really could not have done this without you!!!!  
> 4\. There are a bunch of scenes that I either a) have vague ideas for, or b) are basically written but didn't fit into the fic, that I could probably be persuaded into posting. We'll see!  
> 5\. Ask me if I'm ever going to stop writing things that are entirely self-indulgent. (The answer is no.) (I think I am hilarious.)  
> 6\. Thanks for reading, I really appreciate it!
> 
> And come join me on [tumblr](http://deerie.tumblr.com)!


End file.
